


"DREAM LOVER(S)"

by EvilAdmin



Category: Blood Ties (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, M/M, NonCon with a Supernatural Presence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-16 23:44:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8122201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilAdmin/pseuds/EvilAdmin
Summary: For the past two weeks Mike Celluci has been waking up in the morning feeling tired and finding his boxers on the floor and not on his body where they belong.  He suspects that there may be supernatural involvement but he’s embarrassed to ask Vicki or Coreen for help.  What he needs is another man who has an understanding of the supernatural to help him discover the truth.  Unfortunately the only person he knows who fits both those criteria is Henry Fitzroy, and he really, really doesn’t want to ask him for his help with this.  But what choice does he have?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Blood Ties story. I hope you enjoy it as much as I’ve enjoyed reading all the wonderful stories on Archive.

Mike Celluci frowned and opened his eyes slowly to see where the annoying snapping noise was coming from.  He was startled when he saw Vicki’s face a foot away from his and realized she was snapping her fingers at him.  Apparently he had dozed off.    

“Am I boring you?,” Vicki asked, as he pushed himself back upright in the chair that he was now slouched down in and quickly wiped a bit of drool off his chin.  As he looked around he saw that Coreen and Henry were both looking at him with bemused expressions and he felt himself blush a bit. 

“Sorry,” he said smoothing his suit jacket down and trying to maintain some semblance of dignity.  “I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately.” 

“Well you look like shit, Mike,” Vicki added. 

“Gee, thanks, Vicki.  You really know how to stroke a man’s ego.” 

“No, I’m serious, Mike.  When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?” 

Mike shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and said, “I’m fine.  Let’s just get back to the case.  Now, what were you saying?” he asked, trying to divert attention away from himself.    

Mike spent the next 20 minutes sitting in Vicki’s office yawning and only half listening to what she was saying.  It had something to do with a devil worshiping cult, but he was too exhausted to fully concentrate on it.  He was having the same problem at his job and it was starting to affect his work.  If he didn’t do something soon to solve this problem Crowley was going to suspend him–-or, heaven forbid, fire him.  He sighed at the realization that he was going to have to do something he REALLY didn’t want to do: he was going to have to ask Henry Fitzroy for his help. 

After Vicki finished her briefing, she and Coreen went back into her office to do a little online research.  Mike saw Henry stand up and head for the door and said, “Henry, wait up.  Can I speak to you a minute?” 

“Sure, detective,” he said with that perpetual smirk on his face that always got right up Mike’s nose.  “What’s up?” 

“Uh, could we speak privately out in the hallway, if you don’t mind?” 

Henry’s curiosity was peaked.  First of all, Celluci never called him Henry, he always called him Fitzroy.  Second of all, he really did look bad.  Henry frowned as he examined Celluci more closely now and took in the dark circles under his eyes and the slight stoop to his shoulders.  Whatever was going on he guessed he was about to find out.  He headed out the door into the hallway with Celluci on his heels.  Henry saw Mike glance around the hallway nervously, checking to make sure they were alone, he assumed.  He raised an eyebrow at Celluci and waited for him to speak. 

“Listen, Henry …”

Henry raised his other eyebrow.  That was twice now that Celluci had called him by his given name.  He doubted the man even realized he had done it.  He was clearly distracted. 

“… I’m having a problem that I need help with.  There’s a possibility that the supernatural is involved, but I can’t be sure.” 

“Well, in that case,” Henry said reaching back for the office door, “I believe Vicki and Coreen would be better suited …” 

“No!” Mike said looking slightly panicked and putting his hand out to stop Henry from reaching for the doorknob. 

Henry looked slightly taken aback.  He saw Celluci was rubbing the back of his neck now, a habit he noticed he had when he was upset or agitated.  He lowered his hand away from the doorknob and waited for Celluci to continue.  He had to admit he was definitely curious now. 

“The thing is,” Mike finally said while still rubbing the back of his neck and looking uncomfortable, “I can’t involve Vicki or Coreen in this.  It’s … it’s kind of personal and embarrassing.  I need another man for this, one who will know if there are supernatural elements involved.  Unfortunately you’re the only person I know who fits both these criteria.” 

Henry studied Mike and saw he was clearly uncomfortable revealing whatever this was about, if the slight flush crawling up his neck was any indication, so he merely said, “All right, I’m listening.” 

“Okay, but please, _please_ don’t laugh or make fun of this.  I don’t know if I could handle that right now.  Trust me when I say this is humiliating enough.” 

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Henry said smiling while making the sign of the cross across his chest.  “There will be no frivolity at your expense in this particular instance.”  Henry waited for Celluci to make some sarcastic quip about the “hope to die” part of what he just said, and when there was none he knew this was serious. 

Mike just nodded and continued on.  “For the past two weeks I haven’t been sleeping well.” 

Henry nodded.  That much was apparent. 

“The thing is, most nights I go to bed at a reasonable hour, so I should be getting plenty of sleep.  But when I wake up I’m exhausted as if I’ve hardly gotten any sleep at all.  And this all started about the same time as the dreams,” Mike added. 

“Dreams?” Henry said looking more interested now.  “What kind of dreams?”  Henry was surprised to see the detective blush a deep red.  “Oh,” he said, “those kind of dreams.”  Then Henry shrugged and said, “That’s not a big deal.  Everyone has them from time to time.” 

“But it’s pretty much the same dream every night.  I’m asleep in my own bed when I suddenly sense a presence in the room.  I feel anxious about it but I don’t know what’s in the room with me.  Then suddenly this presence is in bed with me, and it’s holding me down.  I fight it but it’s stronger than me.  It starts touching me and doing all sorts of things to me and I’m helpless to stop it.  This goes on and on for a long time until it finally either tires of me or gets what it wants, and then it leaves.  I never see a face.” 

Henry can hear Celluci’s heart beating, and right now it’s beating double time.  This dream clearly upsets him.  For a man like Celluci it’s probably the feeling of helplessness, of being held down. 

“When you wake up in the morning,” Henry asks delicately, “is there any evidence that would suggest to you that this wasn’t a dream?” 

Henry sees Mike’s hesitation.  There’s clearly more that he’s uncomfortable sharing. 

“Detective … Mike, if I’m going to help you I need to know all the facts.” 

Mike looks up and makes eye contact briefly and then lowers his eyes and says, “When I go to bed I’m wearing boxers.  When I wake up in the morning they’re on the floor.  There’s evidence I …”  Mike seems to stall here. 

“Ejaculated?” Henry quietly prompts. 

Mike winces at that.  “Yes, dammit, ejaculated.  Also, the muscles in my arms and legs are sore like I’ve had a hard workout, and certain parts of my body are sensitive as if they’ve been … over-stimulated.” 

Henry sees Mike turn even redder.  He knows that was hard for him to share.  He’s back to rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Is there any chance that you’re doing this yourself?” Henry asks, not meeting his eyes. 

Mike hesitates so long that Henry wonders if he’s going to answer, and then Mike says, “I don’t know.  I suppose it’s possible.  Either way I need to know.  So you can see why I can’t ask Vicki or Coreen for help on this.” 

Henry nods.  If the shoe was on the other foot he would have done the same thing.  “So, Mike, what can I do to help?”    

Mike opens his mouth as if to respond and then closes it.  He does this twice more before finally saying, “Oh, god, I never thought I’d be saying this to you, but I want you to spend the night with me.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Mike Celluci lived on the third floor of a five-story apartment building.  He was grumbling as he paced the floor, checking the clock in his kitchen every 30 seconds.  Fitzroy was supposed to have been here between 11:00 and 11:30 and it was now 11:40.  If that little royal pain in the ass had backed out on him, Mike was going to be pissed.  He couldn’t go on like this.  He needed to know if this involved some kind of supernatural element or if it was something else.  He needed to figure this out and he needed Henry-fucking-Fitzroy to help him. 

Henry had agreed to spend the night and keep watch, but then had added that he wanted something in return as payment.  When Mike had asked him what he wanted, Henry had given the answer Mike had expected, that Mike would provide him “a snack” the next time Henry needed to feed and didn’t have time to hunt.  Mike had agreed immediately.  Shit, as desperate as he was, if Henry had asked him to dress up like the queen of England and parade up and down Bloor Street he would have done it if it meant figuring this out so he could get a good night’s sleep. 

Finally he heard a knock on the door.  He jerked the door open and said “It’s about fucking time,” and then seeing the look on Fitzroy’s face realized that he’d better check the attitude. 

“Look, Henry, I’m sorry.  I can’t even think straight anymore.  I really appreciate you helping me out.  Please come in.”  That was the right thing to say as he saw Henry’s posture relax. 

Henry looked Mike over and smiled at the midnight blue, velour, knee-length bathrobe.  He could also see that Celluci had recently showered.  His hair was still slightly damp and he smelled fresh and clean.  “So, where do you want me?” Henry asked. 

“I want you in the bedroom.” 

Henry saw Celluci cringe immediately and blush as he realized what he had just said.  “Why Detective Celluci,” Henry replied in a mock southern drawl, batting his lashes at Celluci, “I thought you’d never ask.” Henry smiled as Mike turned and stormed off toward the bedroom, and he actually heard the man growl. 

It was a nice large room painted a pale dove gray.  There was a large queen-size bed in the center of one wall with night stands on either side of the bed, a dresser against a second wall.  A third wall had a large window.  The blind was up and a near full moon was visible through the window.  And then the fourth wall, the one that was facing the foot of the bed, had a built-in closet with sliding mirror doors.  The room was masculine without being macho and was neat and clean, just like the man himself. 

Celluci walked over to the wall with the closet and slid open a mirrored door.  Henry saw that Mike had pushed his hangered clothes over to one side and had put a straight-backed chair in there for him to sit on while he was on surveillance duty.  The closet was set back about 7 feet from the foot of the bed and was nice and dark inside.  None of the moonlight touched the closet.  Henry would have a good view of the bed and Celluci but should be pretty well concealed if Mike did have a visitor.  Henry had specifically worn a black t-shirt and black slacks to help stay invisible. 

“If you sit in here and leave the door open about a foot you should be able to see anything that happens,” Mike said, while unconsciously twisting his hands.  Henry wondered as agitated as Mike was if he was going to be able to get to sleep. 

“I don’t suppose you took a sleep aid to help you fall asleep,” Henry said.  “The way you’re heart’s pumping you’re never going to fall asleep.” 

“I had a couple of bourbons right before you came.  I’m exhausted and should fall asleep pretty quickly.” 

Henry just nodded.  _We’ll see_ , he thought. 

Mike turned out the light and took off his robe and slung it over the bottom of the bed.  Henry saw he was wearing a t-shirt and flannel bottoms.  He frowned as he remembered what Celluci had said earlier.  “Uh, detective?” 

“What now!” Mike said testily, pulling down the covers and scowling toward the closet. 

“It’s just that I thought you said something about waking up and finding your boxers on the floor.” 

“Yeah, so?” 

“So is this what you normally wear to bed?” Henry asked. 

He saw Mike blush.  “Well, no, but since you’re here I thought …”

“Detective, if we’re going conduct a proper experiment things need to be exactly how they usually are.  You should sleep in what you normally sleep in.  Don’t start changing things around because if you do have a supernatural visitor it might get suspicious.” 

“Fine!” Mike snapped.  He pulled the t-shirt off in one quick motion, clearly irritated, but when he went to remove his pajama bottoms he hesitated, then looked toward the closet and said, “Close your eyes a minute.” 

 _Seriously?  He wants me to close my eyes considering what I’m here for?,_ Henry thought. He just rolled his eyes unseen in the dark closet and said, “Okay, they’re closed,” which was a lie as he watched Celluci strip off the bottoms revealing thin white cotton boxers.  Henry just shook his head.  _Oh, detective_ , he thought, _you are just way too conservative_. 

Mike dove under the covers and said, “You can open your eyes now.” 

“So,” Henry said, knowing Mike wouldn’t fall asleep immediately, “I’ve been thinking about what you told me.  It’s possible we’re dealing with a succubus.  Part of what you told me fits, though not everything,” Henry said frowning.  A succubus will appear in a dream and takes the form of a woman in order to seduce a man.   Repeated sexual activity with a succubus can result in the deterioration of health or even death.  You said this has been going on for two weeks now and your health definitely seems to be affected.  The only thing that doesn’t seem to fit is you said you never see a face in your dreams.  That part puzzles me.  If it is a succubus, though, I can take care of it.” 

“Then let’s hope that’s what it is,” Mike said tersely.  No further words were exchanged. 

Henry got as comfortable as he could in the hard, straight-backed chair and waited.  Despite the bourbons Mike said he had drunk, it took him well over an hour of tossing and turning before Henry finally heard his heartbeat starting to slow to the steady beat of sleep.  Henry glanced at his watch.  It was just past 12:45 a.m.  Mike was asleep on his back with his head turned to the side and one arm thrown over his head.  The cotton sheet he had over him had ridden down to just below his navel.  With his head turned to the side Henry had a clear view of the side of Mike’s throat and it reminded him that he had forgotten to eat before he came here, which was rather stupid on his part.  He had had a sudden inspiration for one of his stories and had become so engrossed with it that feeding had simply slipped his mind.  Now sitting here starring at the exposed column of Mike’s neck made him realize he was suddenly very hungry.  Shit, this was going to be a long night. 

One o’clock rolled past, then one-thirty, then two, then two-thirty and still there was nothing.  Mike was sleeping like the dead; he hadn’t moved so much as an inch since he fell asleep.  Another half hour went by and Henry’s mind was wandering, thinking about where he might possibly find something to eat at such a late hour.  He could usually find a thug or some gangbangers hanging out at the local park.  Or maybe he should just go ahead and take his payment from Mike now since this was turning out to be a monumental waste of time.  He was just checking his watch again thinking if nothing happened in the next half hour he was going to leave when he suddenly heard a soft moan escaping Mike’s lips.  He quickly looked up at him but didn’t see anything amiss.  He scanned around the bed as far as the foot-wide gap allowed him and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but then he felt it, a slight displacement of air, and there was the faint scent of ozone in the air.  He was suddenly alert.  He looked at Mike again and saw he was moving restlessly, but he wasn’t waking up. 

Then Henry nearly jumped out of his chair in surprise when he saw pale, vaporous tendrils gliding along the ground heading toward the foot of Mike’s bed.  The tendrils ranged in color from bright white to pale grey to a sheer pearlescent pinkish shade.  There were around a dozen of them in various shapes and sizes, all heading for the bed.  Henry wasn’t sure what do at this point.  Should he jump out of the closet and see if that scared the things away?  He didn’t even know what they were.  If they were going to stop future visits from this swarm of tendrils he supposed he should just sit here and observe and try to collect data for analyzing later.  Whatever they did to Mike to cause his sleep-deprived state didn’t appear to be currently life threatening.  So Henry slowly relaxed his body and sat back and observed. 

Mike had a platform bed that sat low to the ground and had no footboard to speak of, so Henry had an unobstructed view.  He watched as two of the tendrils snaked up the foot of the bed on either side of Mike’s legs and moved forward.  The other tendrils had split up and gone on either side of the bed.  When the two tendrils snaking along either side of Mike reached the top of the sheet that was pooled just under Mike’s navel, the tendrils actually curled their ends under the edge of the sheet and started slithering backwards, pulling the sheet off Mike until it fell off the foot of the bed.  Two other tendrils next slithered up, one on either side of the bed, and slid their pointy ends under the elastic waistband of Celluci’s boxers and started sliding them downward.  This should have woken Mike up, but when Henry looked up at Mike’s face he still showed no signs of waking.  Whatever these things were they seemed to be able to keep him in some sort of dream-like state.  Celluci’s boxers ended up on the floor, just as he had reported to Henry.  Well, there’s the answer to that one.  However, this was starting to get awkward as Mike was now laid out bare in all his glory, and Henry still had no idea what he should do.  He still wasn’t sure what these things were, nor definitively what they were after, but based on a few things Mike had disclosed to him he had a feeling that this was going to get even more awkward for him as the night wore on. 

All of the tendrils were climbing onto the bed now.  Henry was amazed at how in-sync the tendrils seemed to work, as if they were mentally connected ... or possibly it was because they had done this many times before. 

Henry watched as two of the tendrils wrapped themselves around Celluci’s wrists and pulled them up on either side of his head, and two more wrapped themselves around his ankles and held them apart.  From where Henry was sitting he had a front row seat to a show he didn’t want to be at and he was now feeling like a voyeur.  He could see that Mike didn’t like being restrained because he started immediately pulling against the pressure on his wrists and ankles and his moaning became louder.  Mike was a big man, a strong man, and he was pulling against the tendrils with some force.  The tendrils weren’t loosening their grips in the least.  That explained Mike’s sore muscles.  These things must be exceptionally strong and it had Henry thinking twice about trying to startle them away from Mike at any point.  What if they got startled and squeezed and inadvertently hurt him? 

This was getting frustrating.  And what was even more frustrating was the fact that seeing all six foot, two inches of Mike Celluci naked and essentially bound and spread eagle on the bed was starting to have an effect on him, and that was decidedly inconvenient since he couldn’t move or do anything about it.  Mike also kept tossing his head back as he struggled which kept drawing Henry’s eyes to his throat, and it was a constant reminder of how hungry he was and how delicious Celluci looked right now.  Blood lust and the other kind of lust were now both warring in his body. 

The tendrils not restraining Celluci seemed to be gently stroking his body.  Two of them were circling his nipples and another couple seemed to be stroking his thighs.  Mike was arching his back and groaning, pulling against the restraints and becoming aroused quickly.  What a coincidence, because Henry’s pants suddenly felt two sizes too small.  

The tendrils continued to stroke and caress Mike’s face and torso, legs and thighs at great length.  They seemed to be taking their time exciting him.  Mike’s back arched off the bed and he pulled at his restraints urgently as Henry spotted a tendril slithering up between his legs.  Henry’s breathing picked up as well as he watched it slide slowly up Mike’s right thigh and wind its way around his hips, pulling him back flat on the bed.  Another tendril came to join the first and started circling and twisting over Mike’s manhood, dragging its pointy tip over his slit, and Mike was now making needy sounds.  Then Henry saw yet another tendril, the one that was a pale gray, slide down underneath his ass searching for the way inside. The two tendrils holding Mike’s ankles apart pushed them toward Mike’s body so that his knees were now bent, his feet resting on the bed.  This gave the gray tendril easier access to Mike’s entrance.  Henry could tell when that particular tendril started pushing its way in because Mike would have come off the bed if the one tendril hadn’t been holding his hips down. 

With each minuscule advance of the gray tendril, Henry could see Mike pulling harder at his restraints.  Despite how obviously aroused he was, Mike was fighting the restraints, and as a result his heart was pounding and his body was covered in sweat.  Henry could feel his own heart pounding, his own breathing picking up, and he felt himself unconsciously spread his own legs further apart.  Henry shook his head at the fact that Mike was still sleeping through this.  Henry watched the tendril that had penetrated Mike start moving in and out in a steady rhythm.  The other tendrils continued their stroking and caressing of various parts of Mike’s anatomy.  Mike was moaning and gasping and digging his heels into the bed.  Henry glanced at Mike’s manhood and it was fully engorged and leaking as the one tendril continued to stroke and tease and twist around it. Mike was a big man and everything, including his cock, Henry noted, was well in proportion. 

By the tension in Mike’s body and the elevated breathing, the increased moaning, it was clear he was close to release.  Henry was actually impressed he hadn’t already.  Then he saw that one of the tendrils had wrapped itself around the base of his cock and was squeezing, preventing his release.  They obviously didn’t want things to end quite yet. 

Henry realized he was grinding his own hips into the chair and had to consciously make himself stop.  Christ he was hard now.  Then Mike made a particularly load moan that was so carnal in nature that Henry felt his eyes go black and his fangs drop.  When Henry looked at Mike, Mike had his head thrown back, once again exposing the column of his throat and Henry had to grab the arms of the chair to stay seated.  His predator was unleashed and he suddenly couldn’t stand that these tendrils were all over what by right should be his.  Mike was within his territorial sphere—ergo, his.  He must have made some sort of noise, possibly a challenging growl, because two of the tendrils raised up and pointed their tips in his direction.  He froze, not daring to even breathe.  He didn’t know how these things hunted, whether it was by sight, smell, body heat, vibration or what, so he just remained silent and hoped that they would go back to what they were doing.  No such luck.  The two tendrils that seemed to have heard him slithered off the bed and headed straight for him. 

Henry raised his feet slowly off the ground hoping the two tendrils would just check the closet floor.  They stopped right under his feet, then one lifted up and wrapped itself around his ankle and pulled it back to the ground.  The other tendril lifted up and he thought it was going to do the same thing to the other ankle, but instead it slipped up his pant leg before he knew what it was doing.  He immediately wrapped his hands around his leg just above the knee to try and prevent the tendril from going any higher, but it was like trying to stop smoke.  His hands didn’t even slow it down.  It found the leg band of his silk jockeys and wiggled underneath. 

Henry had already been past aroused, so when the tendril started caressing him all he could do was throw his head back against the chair and moan.  He was squeezing the arms of the chair so hard he heard the wood crack.   Things were feeling a bit too tight so he quickly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants which allowed the tendril a little more maneuverability.  Then he just put his head back on the chair and let the tendril have its way with him.  He looked over at Celluci and saw the gray tendril was still setting a steady pace moving in and out, in and out of Mike’s body, driving him crazy.  Henry suddenly realized that the tendril sliding up and down his own cock was in perfect sync with the one going in and out of Mike’s ass.  Henry relaxed his body and imagined it was his cock going in and out of Mike’s ass rather than the tendril.  It was he who had Mike’s hands pinned on either side of his head and it was he who was licking and torturing his nipples and making him moan, making him arch, making him writhe.  Henry was so close.  So close.  They were both so close. 

But then Henry noticed out of his periphery that two other tendrils were suddenly next to his chair.  He had been so distracted that he hadn’t even noticed them leaving the bed.  He was panting now; he was almost there.  Just another few seconds.  But then the tendril wrapped around his cock stopped what it was doing and retreated.  Henry almost screamed in frustration.  The two new tendrils stretched up and caught him under the arms and stood him up.  _What the heck are they doing now?,_ Henry thought.  They started pulling him toward the bed.  Henry tried to pull back and break their grips, but even his vampire strength was no match for these things. 

They pulled him to the side of the bed where he could look down on Mike Celluci.   He had always known in the back of his mind that Mike was handsome—in fact, there were several traits that he had that Henry was actually jealous of, like his height and those gorgeous blue eyes—but staring down at him now with his body coated in sweat and bathed in moonlight, his hair curling and sticking to his face, the way he kept licking his lips, the way the muscles in his body kept contracting as his long limbs pulled and strained against the restraints, and his impressive manhood springing from a nest of brown curls, Henry realized that Mike wasn’t just handsome, he was beautiful. 

The tendrils hooked their tips under Henry’s black t-shirt and drew it over his head.  Next they started drawing his pants down.  Henry had already unbuttoned and unzippered them, so they just hooked under the waistband and pulled down.  Henry stepped out of them voluntarily.  He never took his eyes off Mike.  His groin was throbbing, his heart was hammering—his hunger was like a living, breathing thing that was incinerating him from the inside out.  As soon as he stepped out of his pants the tendrils grabbed him under the arms and drew him onto the bed.  They pulled him along on his hands and knees until they had him straddling Celluci’s pelvis.  The way he was positioned he felt Celluci’s cock pressed up into the V between his thighs. 

Henry was still in possession of a small part of his control, so he fisted his hands and tried to resist what he knew the tendrils wanted:  they wanted him to have sex with Mike.  He wasn’t sure if they knew he was a vampire or not and wanted to drink Mike's blood.  Henry fisted his hands so hard he felt the skin break.  The tendrils must have grown impatient because they suddenly pulled him forward hard so that he landed on Mike’s chest with his face against Mike’s neck.  If that wasn’t bad enough, Mike arched and moaned at the contact.  All thinking went right out the window as instinct took over and the need to feed and fuck blurred, becoming one burning need. 

Henry started licking and inhaling the scent of Mike’s neck while grinding their cocks together.  He was surprised to feel Mike’s hands suddenly on his back.  The tendrils had finally released Mike now that they had him pinned down underneath Henry’s body.  Henry looked over to see if Mike was still asleep and accidentally brushed Mike’s lips with his own.  Mike, now realizing that a pair of lips was nearby, fisted his hand in Henry’s hair and pulled him in for a bruising kiss.  It was hard, it was brutal, it was wet, it was sloppy, it was carnal.  Mike nicked his tongue on one of Henry’s fangs, introducing the taste of Mike’s blood into the mix, and now it was Henry who was increasing the pressure of the kiss, sucking on Mike’s tongue with a frantic need. 

Mike had his hands on the small of Henry’s back pulling him harder against him to increase the pressure and friction of Henry grinding against him.  He slid those large hands further down and grabbed an ass cheek in each hand and squeezed them up and apart.  Henry broke the kiss arching his back and gasping. 

Henry could feel the tendrils all over both of them, touching and teasing.  He could tell that they were excited because they were actually vibrating. 

Henry had been with men before—he would bet his eyeteeth that Celluci hadn’t—so he sat up and grabbed Celluci’s cock and slowly impaled himself on it.  He thought his heart was going to burst out of his chest.  He saw Mike’s eyelids flutter and he froze as he thought that Mike was finally waking up (and at a very inopportune moment!), but Mike’s eyes closed again and Henry felt Mike's hands on his thighs stroking up and down their length.  Henry grabbed Mike’s wrists and leaned forward and positioned them on either side of his head like the tendrils had done.  Mike immediately started writhing and pulling against his hands and Henry started riding him hard, setting a quick pace.  They were both too close at this point to go slow. 

Celluci’s body was actually starting to tremble with need, and as soon as Henry felt the familiar tightening of muscles right before release he buried his face in Mike’s neck and bit.  Mike made a strangled cry and arched and bucked into Henry hard as he came.  Henry had never had anyone come that hard inside him in his 450+ years of years of being sexually active.  It was intense.  The sweet taste of Mike’s blood burst onto his tongue and, god, he was delicious.  Feeding during sex was always the best, the blood being fully oxygenated due to prolonged rapid breathing making it seem lighter, almost effervescent.  Plus the endorphins flowing through the system made it taste sweeter, more succulent.  Henry ground down on Mike a couple more times and came right behind him, fangs still drawing blood, his heart hammering in his chest as he rode out the aftershocks. 

Henry quit feeding when he knew he had taken as much blood as Celluci could afford to lose, but he kept his teeth buried in Celluci’s neck another few minutes just enjoying the feeling of being connected.  He felt totally tranquil in this moment, which was one of the aftereffects of mind-blowing, rock-your-world sex.  He finally removed his teeth and looked down at Celluci, who was sleeping peacefully now.  He licked the bite marks to hasten healing.  He had actually bitten Mike on the same side of the throat that he had nearly ripped out during the Mendoza incident.  In fact, you really couldn’t see the bite marks in the folds of the scar tissue unless you looked really hard. 

Henry sat up, Mike’s softened cock still inside him.  He looked around at the tendrils that were positioned all around them on the bed, and he could swear they looked as tranquil as he felt right now.  The tendrils stirred and started lightly touching Mike and him reverently before they started slithering off the bed and heading toward one of the bedroom walls.  They went under the crack between the floor and the wall like smoke, and were gone.  Thinking about everything that had happened this evening and the behavior of the tendrils, Henry had the strangest feeling that the tendrils … loved Celluci.  He couldn’t put into words why he felt that way, but he did. 

Looking at his watch he saw it was now 4:20 and sunrise would be in about an hour.  He should have just enough time to get home and grab a quick shower before daylight took him.  He thought about leaving a note, but, really, what would he say?  _Oh, I saw you have nonconsensual sex while you were asleep with a dozen smoky tendril things, and then they brought me over to join in and I did?_  No, there was no way he was writing a note.  Mike would be pissed, but he’d have to wait till tomorrow night for explanations and Henry would have to figure out just how much to tell him. 

He sighed as he picked the sheet up off the floor, ready to cover Mike up, but then he just stared down at the man.  Celluci’s lips were red and swollen from kissing, his hair disheveled, limbs askew, he was covered in sweat—he looked totally debauched.  Henry put the sheet down and got his cell phone out.  He snapped a few shots of Mike.  Later when he had time he would sketch a picture of Mike like this for his own personal viewing.  He had a secret room in his condo that was hidden behind a bookcase that had several other things that were special to him and for his eyes only.  He put his cell phone away and covered Mike up.  He made sure to lock the door on his way out.  Henry didn’t want any other visitors bothering what he now considered his. 


	3. Chapter 3

Henry was wrong. Mike wasn’t pissed, he was furious.  When Mike woke up and found his boxers yet again on the floor and signs of release on his bed, he blushed bright red wondering exactly what Henry had witnessed.  And then the little demon-spawn hadn’t even left him a note.  Mike went and took a shower, drank way too much coffee, and snapped at anyone at work who even looked at him sideways.  When he left work at the end of the day (on time for a change) he could swear he heard a collective sigh of relief from his co-workers. 

As he got off the elevator and walked toward his apartment door ready to go in and call Fitzroy’s number and rip him a new asshole, he spotted the man standing by his door leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.  That caught him off guard.  He opened the door with his key and grumbled, “You could have left me a note, you know.  You let me go all day without knowing what happened.”  Then Celluci looked at him with a worried expression and said, “So, what exactly did happen last night?” 

Henry wouldn’t say anything until Mike made himself comfortable and had a big glass of bourbon in his hand.  Then Henry told him what happened without getting too graphic, and in the end he decided to skip over the part where he participated, since it seemed that Mike didn’t know anything about it.  Then Henry softened Celluci’s embarrassment by admitting that two of the tendrils discovered him in the closet and had gotten him off as well.  That was partly true and the right call as Mike looked less embarrassed with that admission. 

“They definitely weren’t malevolent,” Henry added.  “In fact, I got the impression they liked you … a lot.  Still, we need Vicki and Coreen’s help to figure out what these things are if we’re to get rid of them.”  When Mike started to protest Henry added, “We don’t have to be too specific, just tell them that you’re being visited by these things nightly and they’re interfering with your sleep.” 

In the end Mike agreed, and after an awkward question and answer session with Vicki and Coreen where Mike and Henry both danced around the truth like true politicians, Vicki and Coreen (mostly Coreen) went to work figuring out what these things were. 

After Henry’s explanation of what had happened, Mike found he couldn’t sleep in his bed that night so he ended up sleeping fully clothed in his La-Z-Boy in the living room.  As it turned out, it didn’t make any difference. All his clothing, including his boxers, were on the floor when he woke up. 

That afternoon at work Mike got a call from Vicki saying that they thought they had the answer to Mike’s nightly visitations. 

Mike went over to Vicki’s office after work that evening and discovered that Henry was already there.  Apparently he wanted to hear what had been visiting Mike as well. 

Coreen, her eyes wide and shining with excitement as they always were when she discovered something having to do with the supernatural, relayed her findings: 

“In the late 1800’s there was a building that stood right where your apartment building is today,” she said looking at Mike.  “As it turns out, it was a brothel—but not just any brothel, it was, ‘ _Whatever You Desire_ ,’ the most famous brothel in the territory,” Coreen said using her hands more and more as she got fully into the tale.  “The madam there was a woman ahead of her time who recruited women _and_ men both, which was highly unusual in those days.” 

 _Well that gray tendril was definitely male_ , Henry thought. 

“She didn’t take advantage of women who were down on their luck or buy Chinese women like most of the brothels did, she only wanted those who loved the act of sex and weren't afraid to be creative.  As a result, she had a lot of nymphos working for her obviously,” Coreen said with a wicked grin.  “Reports also say that this brothel was the first ever to offer bondage fantasies.  It's said that the madam herself had a thing for tying men to the bed and arousing them to the point of release and then toying with them for long periods of time until they were literally begging her to get them off.  Anyway, this brothel was so popular that men came from miles around.  It’s said that many of the brothel’s patrons spent their entire paychecks visiting the brothel night after night, leaving their families to fend for themselves.  This wasn’t the brothel’s fault, of course, but it caused a lot of bad feelings, particularly among the women whose husbands were straying and spending all their household funds. 

“One woman in particular had finally had enough.  She had begged and pleaded and tried to keep her husband from visiting the brothel, all to no avail.  But the breaking point was when her son got sick with a fever one night while her husband was away whoring.  She got one of the neighbors to ride out to get the doctor but the doctor refused to come because he knew he wouldn't get paid.  Word had spread all over town that this particular family owed money to everyone from the grocer to the blacksmith because her husband spent it all at the brothel.  The woman’s son died that night and she was filled with rage.  As it turns out, this woman was descended from a long line of wiccans and so she plotted her revenge.  The next morning after all the customers had left the brothel and the whores were all asleep, she barred all the doors and set the building on fire and cast a spell binding their spirits to that area never to be free. 

“So,” Coreen finished up, “apparently what’s been visiting you, Mike, are poltergeists--spirits who can’t take corporeal form, probably due to whatever spell the wiccan placed on them, but they apparently have enough energy to appear as the tendrils that Henry described.  I wonder if they’ve been bothering any of the other residents in your apartment building.  Have you heard anyone else complaining of being haunted, Mike?” 

“No,” Mike said, sharing a meaningful look with Henry as he absorbed all the implications of her story.  The spirits of dead hookers were visiting him every night?  Why him? 

“How many died in the fire?” Henry asked. 

“The story says there were 12, including the madam herself.” 

Henry looked down and smiled.  He had counted a dozen tendrils in Mike’s room that night.  Apparently they were not visiting any other tenants; they all seemed to favor Detective Mike Celluci. 

“What are you grinning at?” Vicki asked him. 

“Oh, nothing.  Just the fact that Mike has prostitute poltergeists visiting him.”  He saw that delightful flush climbing Celluci’s throat when he said that.      

“Hmm.  Mike, did these poltergeists ever seem … overly friendly to you?,” Vicki asked. 

“No!” he said a little too quickly and a little too loudly. 

Vicki watched as he and Henry exchanged a look.  There was something going on that they weren't telling her, but she wasn’t going to press it now.  Later when she could divide and conquer would be better.  Then she’d get the truth out of them. 

“So,” Mike said getting nervous by the look that had suddenly appeared in Vicki’s eyes, “is there any way to free them so they can be on their merry way and stop bothering me every night?” 

It was Coreen who piped up.  “Sure.  It’s actually an easy spell.  It just takes some chanting and a few special herbs and ingredients spoken under a full moon, which luckily is tonight, so we’ll have you sleeping like a baby in no time,” she said smiling. 

 

They all went out to Mike’s apartment building that night right before midnight and helped Coreen with her preparations, which included encircling the building with a special mix of dried plants, herbs and special oils, and then all four of them walked around the building with smudge sticks chanting a spell that Coreen had made them memorize.  Then Coreen pointed up and they all saw it, even Vicki with her poor eyesight:  A dozen smoky tendrils rising up in the air over the apartment building.  They hovered briefly, pointing their tips in their direction like they were saying good-bye.  Henry saw Mike jerk and put his hand over his heart like he had just felt something.  Then the tendrils rose up into the air and disappeared. 

Vicki looked over at Mike and Henry and frowned.  The two of them were standing side-by-side so close they were almost touching.  They usually couldn’t stand to be within six feet of each other.  Something was definitely going on with these two.  Looking at them standing together though, she kind of liked it.  Maybe the two gorgeous men in her life were finally learning to get along.  She smiled as she walked over to join Coreen. 

“Well, that’s it,” Coreen announced.  “You should be spirit free and able to sleep like the dead tonight.  No offense, Henry,” she added. 

“None taken.” 

“Well, it’s late,” Vicki announced looking at her watch.  Think I’ll turn in, get an early start tomorrow.” 

As Vicki and Coreen both headed off toward Henry’s Bentley, Henry stayed behind and said, “Mike, I saw you jerk and put your hand over your heart.  What was that about?” 

“I don’t know.  When I was looking up at the spirits, all of a sudden I felt a jolt of both happiness and sadness at the same time.  Like an overwhelming sense of freedom combined with a sense of loss, like I was leaving someone I loved behind.  Does that even make sense?” 

“That makes perfect sense.  Well, I’ll let you get to bed.  Pleasant dreams, Mike.” 

“Speaking of dreams, Henry,” Mike said while rubbing the side of his neck that Henry had bitten, making Henry suddenly nervous, “the dream I had the night that you stayed over was slightly different than the dreams I had all the other nights.  I was wondering if there was anything, anything at all that you might have forgotten to tell me about that night.” 

Henry studied Mike’s rather stiff posture and knew that he wasn’t ready for the full truth yet.  Maybe in time, but definitely not tonight.  “No, Mike, I can’t think of anything else,” Henry replied pleasantly wondering what Mike had dreamed that night. 

Mike visibly relaxed, looking relieved.  Henry knew he’d made the right call.  “Well, thanks again, Henry.  Really, thanks for everything.  About our agreement … do you think you’ll be collecting on it soon?” 

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Mike.  In fact, forget about the payment entirely.  It was my pleasure helping you out.”  _You have no idea how much pleasure it was_ , Henry thought, feeling a slight stirring in his groin just thinking about it. 

Mike looked at Henry with surprise.  “It doesn’t feel right you not getting anything out of it.  I mean, you spent the whole night with me and I know you have a deadline coming up on one of your comic books and staying over with me that night probably put you behind.” 

“Graphic novels,” Henry corrected automatically.  “Just consider this a favor among friends."  

"What, we're friends now?" Mike asked looking dubious.  

"Well, I don't usually spend the night with just anybody," Henry answered, giving Mike his most seductive smile.  Now, does little Mikey want Uncle Henry to come up and tuck him into beddy-bye?” 

“Mike blinked at Henry like he couldn’t decide whether to be amused or aghast at what he just said.  Finally he shook his head, cracked a smile of his own and said, “I think I can manage it on my own.  Thanks for the offer, but I’m fine.” 

 _Oh, you are fine_ , Henry thought.  Watching Mike walk into his apartment building he understood why the spirits had chosen Mike above all others.  He also realized that he had wasted a lot of time being at odds with Mike.  Mike wasn’t such a bad guy.  In fact, he’d like to get to know the man a whole lot better.  Mike was a stubborn man, he would certainly try Henry’s patience, but after all, as a vampire Henry had all the time in the world.  And he had a strong feeling the time and effort would be more than worth it. 

Henry walked toward his car smiling, looking forward to tomorrow night when he would come up with some excuse to bump into Mike.  But for now he was going to go home and pull up a certain set of pictures on his cell phone and start sketching what was probably going to end up being his favorite piece of work.     

 

THE END

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this, my first Blood Ties story, please hit the kudos button and/or drop me a comment! :) This is EvilAdmin, out!


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